


The Feeling is Mutual

by bluesquare



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Another Piece of Indulgent Trash, Did I Mention Lots of Kisses Yet, F/M, Heavy Petting (I Guess), I'd Give It a High T Rating but to be Safe, Kisses, Making Out, Other, Rated M for Safety, Spicy ish Content Ahead?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 18:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12776667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesquare/pseuds/bluesquare
Summary: Prompt: Can you do the apprentice absolutely ravishing Asra with kisses?Summary: Asra and the MC test the waters of their relationship. Turns out both of them have been waiting for the exact same thing





	The Feeling is Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from my tumblr (you can check me out at squarelyblue -- feel free to drop by to say hi or to prompt me there)
> 
> Features my fan app Rowan, hope you guys though enjoyed reading her! Admittedly this was a difficult write mostly because I have no idea how choreography works here :))

There were some days that this felt enough – breathless kisses and stolen moments – but tonight was different.

_Felt different._

The shop was closed, the moonlit sky streaming into their window, as Rowan continued to straddle Asra’s lap – her lips ghosting over his the tip of his nose, fingers tilting his chin to meet her gaze. She wanted more.  _Needed more_. But just as tentative as her touches had been, Asra had been equally cautious. Even after regaining her memories and saving Vesuvia, and Rowan didn’t want to push him. She trusted Asra – even if the low hum of desire, coiled tightly at her belly and burning across her skin, had been simmering underneath.

“May I?”

Swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, awaiting  his answer. A knowing smile spread across his features, before lifting Rowan’s hand to press a kiss on her palm. “I love you, you do know that right?”

“Of course,” Rowan replied. Confusion knotted her brows before Asra surged forward to place a gentle kiss on her unsuspecting lips.

“Then you needn’t ask, Ro. I meant it when I said that I was yours – in more ways than  _one_ ,” the suggestiveness of the word slipping off his tongue almost too candidly.

In the dying embers of the fire, their eyes met. Asra’s purple, looking darker than ever against the dull golden glow of the room, glinted with equal parts confidence and nerves. His fingers dipped down to her night shift, toying with the hem of her dress, to make dispel any linger doubt Rowan had.

He wanted her but he didn’t want to push her too.

_After all this time…how could we have missed it?_

The realization had struck Rowan dumb. A passing silence crossed between them before a throaty laugh had escaped from her body in small heaves. Pressing their foreheads close, she then claimed his lips – nipping at the bottom bow, prodding him to let her taste him.

And Asra tasted as he smelled: all smoke and mystery, of unnamed spices and the wildness of the desert, and the sweetness of rain. Everything about him was home, so achingly much like home, and by the gods did she  _need_  him. Rowan’s voice caught in her throat — coming out as a strangled moan — as the words on her lips died. There was nothing in Common, Prakrian, Vesuvian, or what not, that could encapsulate how much her heart sang for him, how her body yearned for his, or how they had been tethered by fate themselves.

Yet, here they were. Asra pinned underneath her with flushed cheeks and the most kissed-swollen of lips, and  _offering_ if she wanted to.

“Don’t.”  _Kiss._  “Tease.”  _Another_   _kiss._ “Me.” Rowan replied, her breath laboured in between kisses as she felt the blush on cheeks darken, “I might not stop.” Her hands then trailed down his face and down to his bare chest, fingers rolling a nipple between them – earning her a surprised gasp. She then left his lips with a sigh, flitting her focus to pepper kisses along his jaw. She felt Asra arch back, his hands searching for an anchor between them. He then settled on the curve of her ass, gripping them with surprising force, as he rolled his hips against her clothed sex.

“ _Don’t_.”

Rowan threw her head forward as she groaned at the sensation. The night was too young to end so soon. Trying to ignore how Asra’s fingers had begun to whisper along the band of her underwear, Rowan trailed her kisses to nip at his sternum. Not hard enough to leave any marks, but enough to distract her significant other from his ministrations. Rowan continued downward – her body rocking slightly against his in slow agonising circles – leaving no respite for Asra as she then claimed the junction of his neck. Another groan left him, his head leaning back as Rowan sucked at the skin — a light purple bruise no doubt blooming for him to see in the morning.

“You can’t touch me like that just yet Asra. Not yet,” she breathed against his skin, leaving goosebumps in her wake. “Not yet. Please.”

“Rowan—”

“I want to have you first,” she curtly cut in, chasing another hickey on his neck as her hips continued to roll against his. Something that Asra was glad to return in kind. The friction had begun to deliciously build between the two of them but apparent not quite enough for the two of them if the huffs of breath and sharp gasps punctuating the quiet fo the room was any indication.

From Rowan’s own heavily lidded gaze, she saw his throat bobbing at the prospect. “That’s that’s a tall order.”

“Oh?”

Her voice was teasing as sank more and more kisses – each kiss growing more and more aggressive and desperate – until she had dropped to the level of his stomach. She could hear the sharp intake of Asra’s breathing, his eyes peering from underneath his lashes. His hands had migrated to fist at the headboard, steeling himself for what was to come.


End file.
